Athena
10-07-2010, 01:52 PM
Here is the original screed about the Miami Dolphins (http://www.finsnation.com/fins_nation/2010/10/special-reamed.html) from Fins Nation. Dep posted this when it first appeared and it seems to have taken on a life of its own. I thought it would be handy to save it somewhere on our site. It's more than a bit over the top, but for people who like this sort of thing. . .
From Fins Nation, this is a meltdown/rant of epic proportions. Sorry D n J. had to be posted for its whoa'ness
Fuck this fucking team.
Fuck the bullshit hold it's had on me since I was a child, teasing me with promises of happiness and elation, only to rip my fucking heart out again and again and again.
Fuck you, Dolphins.
Fuck your traditions and your heritage. That shit died eons ago.
Fuck your shitty stadium with its shitty art deco post modernistic bullshit decor. It's a fucking football stadium, not the inside of a fucking Little Havana hair salon.
Fuck you, Stephen Ross. You shrunken headed goblin faced fuck. Fuck your ideas to make this a glitzy team. Nobody fucking cares, you cock. Fuck your night clubs and your bullshit orange carpets and your bullshit celebrities. You've turned this franchise into the fucking Titanic. Just because you grew up not being invited to sit at the cool kids' table at Beach High doesn't give you the fucking right to utterly ruin my fucking football team with parties featuring hackneyed celebrities who haven't been fucking relevant since the Clinton administration, and who never had any fucking talent to begin with.
Fuck the fucking dipshits who actually attend these clubs during games. Fuck your bullshit "look at me" faces and your steroid infused bodies and your botoxed faces and your disproportionate fake tits with the nipples pointing in different fucking directions. Fuck your waxed chests and your Ed Hardy t-shirts, swinging your tiny dicks in my fucking stadium. You're not fooling anybody, assfucks. You're all worthless little fucking people and you fucking know that shit deep down in your dark fucking soulless hearts. Get the fuck out of my city.
Fuck you, Bill Parcells. You wanna fucking bail? Bail. You overrated potato shaped stack of equine shit. Fuck your New York Giants Super Bowls and the reputation you garnered on someone else's hard work. Fuck your old school mentality. Oh I don't talk to reporters, they bother me. Fuck. You. Man the fuck up. Take some responsibility. Fuck your golf cart and your fucking race horses. I hope they fucking die in a fire. Fuck your absolute refusal to draft play makers and instead going with the tried and true formula of drafting giant statues with no fucking speed and no discernible football IQ what so fucking ever. Your fucking son-in-law is one hundred times the personnel guy you'll ever be. For their sake, I hope to fucking Christ your grandkids inherited his genes and not yours, you worthless fucksack. Go away and waste another franchise's draft by drafting the next Drew fucking Bledsoe.
Fuck you, Tony Sparano. You're on fucking notice. The honeymoon is over. Take off those fucking shades and get to fucking work. You fucking Parcells lackey. I'm sick and fucking tired of your in-game brain cramps that ruin our fucking seasons time and time again. At this point, you're no better than Cam or Nick or any other fuck face not named Shula to walk through those fucking doors. Fire that worthless shitstick of a special teams coach right the fuck now. Fix this shit. To-fucking-day, or we'll ship your ass back to fucking West Haven where you can slowly die of boredom because what the fuck else is there to do in Connecticut.
Fuck you, Jeff Ireland. You Napoleon-complex ginger fuck. Your one accomplishment in life is when you asked a college player if his mother was a fucking hooker. Is your Mom a fucking hooker? Fuck your bullshit philosophies. Fuck your complete and utter fucking lack of understanding that fucking players get fucking hurt. Fuck your decisions to put Will Allen on IR or let Matt Roth go. We sure as fucking shitfire can use those two fuckers right about now. Fuck your draft system. It's not a system, you fucking midget. It's an art. You draft play makers, not numbers and color coded charts. Fuck you.
Fuck you, Chad Henne. Fuck your underachieving overrated robotic fucking ass. I am sick and fucking tired of defending you. Fuck your complete inability to evolve as a fucking quarterback, you fucking robot cockrocket. You've been staring down receivers since you were fucking conceived, you giant mental ward haircutted asshole. Big arm? Fuck you. Quick release? Fuck you. Learn how to read a fucking defense. Is looking off a safety now and again that fucking difficult to comprehend? You fucking waste of another fucking draft pick on another worthless piece of shit good-for-nothing-but-soul-crushing-interceptions quarterback.
Fuck you Dolphins. Fuck this franchise and its inability to find people who know what the fuck they're doing. I swear to Shiva I can fucking turn this worthless shit of a team around in two years and make them a contender. In two fucking years. Fuck this team. Take Vontae, Jake Long, Cam Wake and The Beast and tear this shit down and build it back up from scratch. Let the fires rage and purify this fucking thing.
Of course, it will never happen. We will never get better. Never rise above the middling shit soup. We'll just keep sucking dick until the sun burns out.
Fuck me for always coming back.
From Fins Nation, this is a meltdown/rant of epic proportions. Sorry D n J. had to be posted for its whoa'ness
Fuck this fucking team.
Fuck the bullshit hold it's had on me since I was a child, teasing me with promises of happiness and elation, only to rip my fucking heart out again and again and again.
Fuck you, Dolphins.
Fuck your traditions and your heritage. That shit died eons ago.
Fuck your shitty stadium with its shitty art deco post modernistic bullshit decor. It's a fucking football stadium, not the inside of a fucking Little Havana hair salon.
Fuck you, Stephen Ross. You shrunken headed goblin faced fuck. Fuck your ideas to make this a glitzy team. Nobody fucking cares, you cock. Fuck your night clubs and your bullshit orange carpets and your bullshit celebrities. You've turned this franchise into the fucking Titanic. Just because you grew up not being invited to sit at the cool kids' table at Beach High doesn't give you the fucking right to utterly ruin my fucking football team with parties featuring hackneyed celebrities who haven't been fucking relevant since the Clinton administration, and who never had any fucking talent to begin with.
Fuck the fucking dipshits who actually attend these clubs during games. Fuck your bullshit "look at me" faces and your steroid infused bodies and your botoxed faces and your disproportionate fake tits with the nipples pointing in different fucking directions. Fuck your waxed chests and your Ed Hardy t-shirts, swinging your tiny dicks in my fucking stadium. You're not fooling anybody, assfucks. You're all worthless little fucking people and you fucking know that shit deep down in your dark fucking soulless hearts. Get the fuck out of my city.
Fuck you, Bill Parcells. You wanna fucking bail? Bail. You overrated potato shaped stack of equine shit. Fuck your New York Giants Super Bowls and the reputation you garnered on someone else's hard work. Fuck your old school mentality. Oh I don't talk to reporters, they bother me. Fuck. You. Man the fuck up. Take some responsibility. Fuck your golf cart and your fucking race horses. I hope they fucking die in a fire. Fuck your absolute refusal to draft play makers and instead going with the tried and true formula of drafting giant statues with no fucking speed and no discernible football IQ what so fucking ever. Your fucking son-in-law is one hundred times the personnel guy you'll ever be. For their sake, I hope to fucking Christ your grandkids inherited his genes and not yours, you worthless fucksack. Go away and waste another franchise's draft by drafting the next Drew fucking Bledsoe.
Fuck you, Tony Sparano. You're on fucking notice. The honeymoon is over. Take off those fucking shades and get to fucking work. You fucking Parcells lackey. I'm sick and fucking tired of your in-game brain cramps that ruin our fucking seasons time and time again. At this point, you're no better than Cam or Nick or any other fuck face not named Shula to walk through those fucking doors. Fire that worthless shitstick of a special teams coach right the fuck now. Fix this shit. To-fucking-day, or we'll ship your ass back to fucking West Haven where you can slowly die of boredom because what the fuck else is there to do in Connecticut.
Fuck you, Jeff Ireland. You Napoleon-complex ginger fuck. Your one accomplishment in life is when you asked a college player if his mother was a fucking hooker. Is your Mom a fucking hooker? Fuck your bullshit philosophies. Fuck your complete and utter fucking lack of understanding that fucking players get fucking hurt. Fuck your decisions to put Will Allen on IR or let Matt Roth go. We sure as fucking shitfire can use those two fuckers right about now. Fuck your draft system. It's not a system, you fucking midget. It's an art. You draft play makers, not numbers and color coded charts. Fuck you.
Fuck you, Chad Henne. Fuck your underachieving overrated robotic fucking ass. I am sick and fucking tired of defending you. Fuck your complete inability to evolve as a fucking quarterback, you fucking robot cockrocket. You've been staring down receivers since you were fucking conceived, you giant mental ward haircutted asshole. Big arm? Fuck you. Quick release? Fuck you. Learn how to read a fucking defense. Is looking off a safety now and again that fucking difficult to comprehend? You fucking waste of another fucking draft pick on another worthless piece of shit good-for-nothing-but-soul-crushing-interceptions quarterback.
Fuck you Dolphins. Fuck this franchise and its inability to find people who know what the fuck they're doing. I swear to Shiva I can fucking turn this worthless shit of a team around in two years and make them a contender. In two fucking years. Fuck this team. Take Vontae, Jake Long, Cam Wake and The Beast and tear this shit down and build it back up from scratch. Let the fires rage and purify this fucking thing.
Of course, it will never happen. We will never get better. Never rise above the middling shit soup. We'll just keep sucking dick until the sun burns out.
Fuck me for always coming back.